


One Step Forward

by Ayiana



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 08:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/122684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayiana/pseuds/Ayiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Scene for 6.01, <em>The Mastodon in the Room</em>. Dinner with Max helps Brennan understand something important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Forward

It isn't the diner. There are piñatas hanging from the ceilings, sombreros on the walls, and half-dead cactus plants on the chipped, tile-topped tables. Instead of hot coffee and fresh doughnuts she smells chili powder and refried beans, and customers nibble on tortilla chips and salsa while they wait for their orders. It feels strange, unfamiliar, but then he walks in and she rises to meet him, forgetting the strangeness in the pleasure of seeing him again.

When he hugs her she holds herself a little away, like she always has, and he doesn't comment, because he never has. Instead he loosens his hold, takes a half-step back, and smiles, and when she looks into his eyes she sees that he's genuinely happy to see her.

Aside from Angela, it's the first completely unguarded welcome she's had since she's been back.

"You look good," Max says, eying her up and down. "Got your hair cut."

"Yes. It's easier to take care of this way."

"I like it," he says as he slides into the booth across from her.

He acts as if just saw her yesterday instead of seven months ago, as if she hadn't missed Christmas and his birthday, hadn't neglected to write or call. Once she would have accepted that as normal behavior. Now she feels a perverse resentment. She wants him to care, and she doesn't know why.

They order enchiladas and chili rellenos, and when their beer arrives it comes in icy bottles with condensation dripping down the sides.

"So tell me all about your trip," he says after their server leaves.

It's a safe question, and she launches into a detailed explanation, but her voice fades when she sees him playing with a tortilla chip, obviously not listening.

"Dad ..."

He looks up, chagrined. "I'm sorry, Tempe. You were saying?"

Booth's attention never wanders when she talks.

"Never mind." She summons a smile, then nods at the server who delivers their meal, redolent of spices and melted cheese.

While they eat he fills her in on Russ and Amy and the kids. It isn't until the meal's almost over, their server having already taken away the leftovers to package them up, that Max sets down his beer, pushes it away, and folds his arms.

"You going to tell me what's on really your mind? Or am I going to have to guess?"

She starts, her eyes meeting his and then falling away again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His chin dips, his mouth tilting into the hint of a sardonic smile. "You shred that napkin any smaller and you're going to need a microscope to find all the pieces."

She looks down. Blinks. Her napkin is a mound of shredded green and yellow bits on the table top. She pushes it aside.

"Cam's mad at me."

He seems surprised by the news. "Why?"

She gives a faint, one-shouldered shrug, distressed to realize just how much Cam's words are still bothering her. "She called me selfish."

"For what?"

When she looks up at him, he appears genuinely nonplussed. "They shut down the lab, Dad. All my interns are gone, Cam's working in the county coroner's office ..." A family finds seats at the table behind her. She hears a little girl's voice, a father's deep, rolling laugh. Something twists in her stomach. "It's like—" she hesitates, because what she's about to say is completely irrational, and yet... "It's like we never existed."

She hates the wistful note that creeps into her voice when she says it, but Max only shrugs and takes another gulp of his beer.

"None of that is your fault, Tempe. You're a scientist. You went to Maluku to be a scientist." The beer bottle rattles against the tabletop, wobbles a little, then settles. "What did they expect?"

"Cam says I put my desires above everybody else's. That I let it all fall apart."

He snorts and reaches half-heartedly for the bill, but she slaps her credit card down on it and slides it out of his reach.

He gives in easily and sits back again. "Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

"I don't know what that means."

"I mean you have to look out for number one. Numero uno." The server who'd been about to retrieve Brennan's credit card snorts, presumably at Max's pronunciation, and Brennan shoots her a quelling glance. She waits for the girl to move away before continuing the conversation.

"I'm not used to people depending on me," she says. "What if ... What if Cam's right and it really is my fault that everything fell apart?" It's been preying on her ever since Cam said it, along with a dawning awareness that she hadn't really thought about anybody else when she'd made her decision to go to Maluku. Well, nobody but Booth, at least. But even he's changed now.

"Booth fell in love in Afghanistan." She doesn't know why she says it, or why her throat feels tight when she does.

Max studies her for a moment, eyebrows raised. "You okay with that?"

"Of course I am." But she can't quite meet his eyes. "I'm glad he's happy."

She swipes a bead of water from her half-full bottle. It's still icy cold. When she glances up, she blinks. Max's jaw is tight, and his eyes flash with anger. She doesn't know why.

She signs the credit card slip and puts her card away, then pushes the leftovers toward Max. "You should take these," she says. She won't eat them on her own, and she doesn't think she'll be seeing as much of Booth as she used to.

They get to their feet, and Max follows her out into the fading twilight.

"Dinner next week?" She tries for a bright smile, but she isn't feeling very cheerful, and an instant later Max pulls her into his arms. It's an awkward hug because of the Styrofoam container of leftovers, but he still holds her tight for a moment.

"Give it time, Tempe." His voice at her ear is rough. "They'll come around."

She watches him walk away and feels oddly bereft. The world she's come home to doesn't feel at all like the one she left, and she doesn't know how to make it right.

She straightens her spine, pulls her shoulders back, and starts toward her car. There is one thing she needs to do, and while it might not fix anything, maybe it will at least ease her conscience.

  
**********

  
The unexpected knock makes him raise his eyebrows and glance at his watch. It's late, too late for door-to-door salesmen or little girls with hopeful eyes and boxes of Girl Scout cookies. Curious, he mutes the TV and gets to his feet. The knock sounds again, and he grumbles as he crosses the room.

"Keep your pants on," he calls. "I'm coming!"

When he checks the peep-hole he stiffens, then reaches for the lock, pulling the door open to familiar eyes filled with curiosity.

"Why would I take my pants off?" she asks.

He rolls his eyes, but he can't help the faint smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. "It's just a saying, Bones." He waves her inside.

"No," she says, and shakes her head. "I can't stay. I just ... I have something I need to say to you."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"If it could, I would have waited, wouldn't I?" Her tone is even, free of sarcasm.

There's a distance between them, and it's his fault. He knows that. But without the walls he's constructed so carefully over the past seven months he knows he'll fall right back into loving her. Even now, as he smells her perfume and meets her clear-eyed gaze he feels himself wavering. He forces an image of Hannah into his mind, lifts his chin, and folds his arms across his chest.

"Right," he says. "What can I do for you, Bones?"

"I had dinner with my dad a little while ago."

"Oh?" It's a safe topic, and he lets his arms unfold and drop to his sides. "How is dear old Dad, anyway?"

"He's fine." She hesitates, her gaze going past him to the room beyond. He wonders what she's looking for. "He said I was right to go to Maluku, that I have to look out for number one."

It doesn't surprise him. "That's Max for you."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "Just that that's the way he is. Max first, you and Russ second, and everything else a distant third."

She ponders that for a moment. He can almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes. "I don't want to be like my dad," she says quietly.

Something twists in his gut at her words. She sounds lost. Alone. He steels himself against a surge of protectiveness.

"So?"

"So I just ..." It's her turn to shrug. She meets his gaze then, and the sadness he sees there makes his jaw clench. "I just want to say I'm sorry."

It's totally unexpected, and it takes a moment for him to wrap his head around it. "For what?"

"For abandoning you. And our work. It's ..."

He thinks he sees tears in her eyes, but then she blinks, and when she looks at him again, her gaze is clear. Steady.

"I needed to go, but I realize that I hurt you, and I hurt my friends, and I don't want to hurt the people I care about."

The vulnerability in her voice is too much. He steps in, pulls her into his arms, and when she drops her head against his shoulder he buries his face in her hair. His throat closes, and his chest feels tight as he thinks about all that they've lost.

She eases her hold first, and when she looks up at him there's a moment when the urge to kiss her becomes almost overwhelming. Instead he lets her go and steps back, and she stares at him for so long that he wonders what she's thinking. Finally, she sighs.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she says.

"Yeah, Bones." He closes his eyes against the regret that wells up in his chest. "Bright and early."

"Goodnight, then." Without waiting for his response, she turns and starts down the hall.

He leans against the door jamb as he watches her walk away. "Goodnight, Bones."

It's barely more than a whisper, but just before she turns the corner she glances back. He catches her quick, hopeful smile and returns it with one of his own.

One way or another, they're going to be okay.

  



End file.
